Roots
by Valora
Summary: Bentona tries to get some answers. Only makes sense if you've read Mistakes Made.


Transformers belongs to Hasbro/ Takara.

 **Roots**

Desolate. That was pretty much the first thing that came to mind when one sat optics on the wastelands near Kaon. It was a harsh landscape, especially for a grounder, though there was a certain beauty to the way the morning light colored the sharp metal formations. It was easily the loneliest place on the planet.

Exactly where the mech she was looking for would choose to spend the rest of his days. He had been spotted by locals around the nearby city, once or twice, and was the protagonist in several regional rumors. Stories which creators would tell their sparklings.

Bentona didn't believe in ghost stories. They were interesting in their quality to show how personal fears would distort narration, but while there often was a tiny bit of truth in them, they were usually grotesquely exaggerated. This bot, who was the fuel of nightmares for so many, was very real. But he was a mech, not a demon.

Originally, she had intended to ask Ratchet to help her locate him, but had eventually decided to not tell him what she was planning. The old medic had been surprised when she had shown up on his doorstep in Iacon, having found him merely by asking around. Understandably, he hadn't recognized her at first, but after telling him who she was, he had welcomed her, overjoyed. He was the medic who helped her and her brother into this world, many stellar cycles ago, on the planet Earth.

Meeting him and later Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee too, had been like getting to know a long lost family. Now that she had met them all, she remembered a few things from her time as a sparkling. Not much, just some blurred images, some unclear feelings.

Talking to them, spending time with the group of Autobots she had been born into, she had learned a lot about her origins. About her mother, her father, the circumstances. They had loved her father, all of them, would have died for him. But, as a historian, she wanted to know more than just one side of the story. And there was one other bot she felt she needed to ask about his point of view when it came to her father.

Someone who had known him at least as long as Ratchet.

Megatron.

Of course she had spent most of her career sifting through archives - that just came with the job. But that didn't mean she had no experience when it came to making her way through the wilderness, or tracking bots. She would have to thank her stepsire Braze for that.

Not that Megatron seemed to be trying to hide his tracks. He was a former gladiator, the most powerful Decepticon in history, feared and probably no less dangerous than he had been during the war. No one dared to even go look for him, no less challenge him. There was no need for him to hide.

Bentona was very well aware of the potential threat he posed, but she was no idiot. If she could find him, good. If he could be persuaded to talk to her and answer some questions, even better. But she wouldn't provoke him into attacking her.

Between the steep walls of the labyrinth that was the Kaon Barrens, the ground was mostly covered by a thick layer of dust and rusty remnants of corroded metal. So when she arrived at a clearing which was almost dust-free in the middle, she knew what that meant. Somebody had taken flight from this spot, repeatedly and recently. He had to be close.

Finally, after scouting the surrounding area thoroughly, she found a pathway leading to a cave. Bentona stopped at the entrance. Except for the worn out ground in front of it, there was no sign anyone was living here, but she felt like she was being watched. That was fine with her. Sneaking up on the former warlord would have been irresponsible anyway, so she made sure she made some noise as she moved, to make her presence known.

Megatron was in there, she was sure of it.

"Hello?" She called, trying to sound both confident and non- threatening, even though her spark was racing in her chest with nervousness. Her voice echoed in the cave, there was no reply.

"Megatron? I know you are here." Bentona took a few steps into the cave, but it was pitch black inside and she didn't dare use her headlights. That would have been disrespectful. "I just want to talk."

It was too late to suppress a yelp when an incredibly loud noise from outside the cave startled her. She turned around and stumbled back. The young femme froze. As the dust cleared, a figure became visible in the entrance. Enormous, heavily armored. Threatening. It was _him_.

His large feet made heavy thumping noises as he walked towards her. She stiffly stepped aside, not daring to make a sound. He walked past her and into the cave.

"Leave." He growled. A cold shudder went down her back, but she didn't move from her spot by the wall.

"I have some questions." She finally managed to say.

"Are your audios malfunctioning, youngling?! I said LEAVE!" Primus, his voice was powerful. Rough, aggressive, like sandpaper on sensitive metal. In the past, that voice had given orders too terrifying to imagine. It had commanded the death of countless bots, and now here it was, directed at her. She cleared her vocal processor.

"My name is Bentona. I am a historian like my father before me. And I came to ask you about him."

A long silence followed. For a moment, she thought she was going to be offlined. Quicker than she could have anticipated, he moved up to her, grabbed her by the throat and pretty much slammed her back into the rough metal wall, stepping into the light falling through the entrance in the process. But he didn't squeeze, nor did he dig his claws into her or drive his sword through her body.

He just looked at her, his expression unreadable. Bentona vented irregularly, failing to conceal her fear, but meeting and holding his gaze with her blue optics. He frowned and let go of her. Her hands went up to her neck, she wasn't injured.

"Unicron in the pit." Megatron rumbled, walking back into the cave.

"So you do recognize me." Bentona cautiously followed him. "Can we talk? Please?"

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?!" The mech snarled from somewhere near the back of the cave.

"I know who you are. I know what you did. And I know you knew my father very well."

"What gave you the impression it would be a good idea to ask _me_ about him, of all bots? Go ask his precious Autobots."

"I know their side of the story." The femme returned, coming to a halt. "I want to know yours."

She hoped the following pause meant he was considering it. Either that or he was going to attack her, in which case she wouldn't have much of a chance. The tension was almost unbearable.

"You really are your father's daughter."

"I have studied the historical records. They told me what role he played in the war, but not who he actually was." She was choosing her words carefully. Trying to be outright submissive was not her intention, but she didn't want to push him too hard either. Megatron was explosive enough as it was, she had noted.

"Your father was a fool." Bentona said nothing. Instead she waited for him to continue, let him say whatever he was willing to tell her. "A fool," he repeated, "but a brave fool. Too caring for his own good. Too trusting. Idealistic. The universe holds no place for someone like that."

She could hear him moving around, saw the dim shine of red optics that had once been blue like her own. "You were an accident, weren't you?" He asked bluntly. "I cannot imagine he would have planned you."

"Probably." No one had ever said it straight to her faceplates so as to not hurt her feelings, but the more she had learned, the more she had suspected as much. Optimus Prime had been a brilliant strategist and apparently very concerned about the wellbeing of his people. Deliberately starting a family during a war just didn't seem like something a bot with his attitude would have done.

Megatron huffed. After a while, he addressed her again. "You're not going to leave yet, are you."

"No."

"Weren't there two of you anyway?"

"I do have a twin brother, yes."

He huffed again. So far so good. Maybe now it was time to actually start asking questions.

"Some bots call him a warmonger." She stated quietly. A humorless chuckle resounded within the cave.

"Well, some bots should have their processors defragged. A _warmonger_. Him? Ridiculous." Megatron paused, then it sounded like he sat down on something. "He greatly helped me come to power during the so-called Golden Age, yes. Without him, the rebellion would have never gotten to the point where it posed an actual threat to the government. But when things got more extreme, I believe he felt responsible for what I was doing. _That_ was why he fought me. To try and stop me. Minimize the damage I was doing. But Orion was definitely not a violent mech."

Was that… guilt? Did Megatron, the fearless and determined warlord, feel guilty?

"Would you… do things differently now? If you could do it again?" A bit of a daring and rather personal question maybe, but she wouldn't press it if he didn't want to answer. So when he actually did, it surprised her all the more.

"I don't know if I could." He seemed to think about it a bit more before continuing. "Though I believe there is some advice I would give my younger self."

"And what would that be?"

"To shut the frag up for once and listen. And to remember that Orion was his friend." A sigh was heard. "Because he _still_ saw me as a friend, even though it wasn't mutual. After I thought he had betrayed me, every city I burned to the ground, every Autobot or civilian I killed, every world I destroyed, I ultimately did it to hurt him. He would have had every reason to hate me, but he didn't."

"He did it to save me, you know. From Unicron, but mostly from myself. He ended the line of Primes, left his Autobots leaderless and the two of you fatherless and even gave up his spark to _save me_ , that idiot."

He almost shouted that last word. Bentona frowned. Now she understood. Death would have been the easier way out for Megatron, instead he was still alive and would spend the rest of his life trying to come to terms with himself. And, though she wished it wasn't so, her father's sacrifice apparently had been necessary to open his optics. There was no need to punish Megatron for his crimes, because being alone with his own thoughts was enough.

Bentona wasn't sure if it was entirely right to feel that way, but she pitied him. And, as she was certain he would feel insulted if he knew anyone was feeling that way about him, she decided it was better to leave now.

"Alright. Thank you. That was very enlightening." The femme said with a small, polite bow.

The former Decepticon merely grunted. Obviously, that meant the conversation was over. She slowly turned in the darkness of the cave and started to make her way back out, but halted before she reached the exit.

"Is there… anything you need?" She asked. Energon crystals grew sparsely underground and Megatron knew how to mine, so at least he wouldn't starve. But it wasn't like he could just walk into a city and buy anything he couldn't get out here.

"Some peace and quiet."

Bentona nodded and stepped out of the cave.


End file.
